Page 1 of Protecting Lanie

CHAPTER 1

ARCHER

Two Years Ago

Boston, Massachusetts

The rain came down in sheets, soaking Archer Vaughn to the bone as he pressed his back against the cold brick of the warehouse. The constant patter of water masked the sound of the boots from his team moving into position, but Archer barely noticed. His earpiece buzzed with static as Kane, who was acting as his second-in-command, whispered from the other side of the building.

“West entrance secure. Two guards down. Your move, Archer.”

Archer didn’t respond immediately. His focus was razor-sharp, locked on the entrance. Before him a pair of burly guards smoked beneath a flickering floodlight. The air stank of damp concrete and burnt tobacco, and Archer’s gut twisted as he thought of what waited inside. The bastard traffickers weren’t just selling people tonight—they were selling them like commodities, stripped of names, dignity, and freedom. Among the victims, Archer’s sister, Meri, haunted his every thought.

“Copy that,” Archer finally replied, his voice low but firm. “Team two, stand by for breach on my mark. Remember, getting the girls out is our top priority.”

“You got it,” Reyna whispered. She sounded calm, but Archer could hear the tension. This wasn’t her first op with Cerberus, but it was her first against the Master’s Market. It was personal for all of them.

Archer raised a gloved hand, signaling Logan, their demolitions expert, to get into position with a breaching charge. The young man moved with precision, his lean form almost blending into the shadows. When Logan gave a thumbs-up, Archer nodded. “On three,” he murmured into the comms. “One…two…”

The explosion wasn’t loud, but it was enough to send the guards scrambling. Before they could react, Archer was on them, his movements fluid and brutal. His elbow cracked against one guard’s jaw, sending the man sprawling. The other reached for his weapon, but Kane appeared like a phantom, snapping the man’s wrist and slamming him to the ground.

“Stay quiet,” Archer growled at the groaning men, pulling zip ties from his vest. He glanced at Kane. “Inside. Now.”

The two of them slipped through the breached door, followed closely by Logan and Reyna. The warehouse was a cavernous maze of dimly lit corridors, the air oppressive with the stench of sweat and fear. Archer’s gut twisted as they neared the main room, where muffled voices and occasional cheers echoed.

He signaled for silence, holding up a clenched fist. The team froze, their breathing barely audible. Archer crept forward, peering around the corner. His blood ran cold.

The room was a twisted mockery of an auction house. A raised platform held a line of young naked women and girls, their wrists bound, their eyes wide with terror. Men in suits lounged in the front rows, holding tablets where they placedtheir bids. At the back of the room, Daryl DeLuca leaned against a desk, his dark eyes scanning the room with predatory ease. Archer’s stomach clenched at the sight of him. The man oozed control, his smirk a reminder that he believed he was untouchable.

And among the captives on stage was Meri.

Archer’s breath caught, but he shoved the panic down. There wasn’t time for emotion. Not yet. “Logan, take out the lights,” he whispered into his mic. “Reyna, be ready to move the girls. Kane, on me.”

The team responded with a chorus of quiet affirmations. Archer counted down silently in his head. The second the lights went out, chaos erupted.

Men shouted as darkness swallowed the room. Archer surged forward, his night vision goggles sliding into place. He took down the first guard with a swift kick to the chest, then spun to disarm another. Gunfire erupted, the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the room, but Archer was already moving, his focus honed on one target: DeLuca.

“Get the merchandise out!” DeLuca barked into his mic. “Do not let them get taken!”

Archer reached the stage just as DeLuca’s men began herding the captives toward a side exit. Meri was among them, her slight frame almost hidden by the taller girls. Archer’s chest tightened as he fought his way through the crowd, every fiber of his being screaming to reach her. But DeLuca was already moving, dragging Meri with him toward a black van waiting just outside.

“DeLuca!” Archer roared, his voice cutting through the cacophony. The trafficker paused, turning just enough to meet Archer’s gaze. For a split second, their eyes locked—one man filled with icy resolve, the other with calculated amusement.

“You’re too late, Vaughn,” DeLuca called, his voice smooth and taunting. “This round is a draw—you might nab the buyers and the girls already sold, but I have the premium merchandise.”

Archer raised his gun, but DeLuca ducked behind a wall of his men, forcing Archer to take cover as bullets ricocheted off the metal scaffolding around him. When he looked up again, the van was gone, and with it, Meri.

“Dammit!” Archer slammed his fist against the stage, rage and frustration boiling inside him. But there was no time to dwell. His earpiece crackled.

“Archer, we’ve got the remaining girls secured,” Reyna reported. “But we’ve got incoming—more of DeLuca’s men.”

“Blow the hard drives,” Archer ordered, his voice like steel. “Leave nothing for them to use. Kane, regroup at the extraction point. We’re pulling out.”

Kane’s voice came through, grim but resolute. “Copy that. On our way.”

As Archer made his way back through the chaos, he saw the faces of the girls his team had managed to save. Their expressions ranged from terrified to relieved, their whispered cries a stark reminder of what they’d endured. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But they were alive.

Archer and his team regrouped outside the warehouse as flames began licking at the inner structure of the building. Logan’s handiwork had ensured there’d be no evidence left behind for DeLuca’s operation to recover.

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